Close Up: Benjamin Coffin the Third
by Inherently Flawed
Summary: I’m not a jerk. I’m not cruel or coldhearted. I’m just not a rulebreaker.


**Disclaimer**: The only thing I own is my Rent DVD and you can't have it, so don't bother suing.

**Author's notes**: My friend's friend was watching Rent and said that he didn't understand why everyone was on the Bohemians' side – Benny was the good guy. He's the one who followed all the rules. It got me thinking.

* * *

'No running' signs were the bane of my existence when I was little. I couldn't ever play tag with my friends because of those signs. They may have been rule-breakers, but I never was. Because of this, I ended up being friends with the less active, nerdy kids. That was okay with me, though, because they followed the rules too. We had a card system in elementary school – everyone's card starts on green, then if you do something wrong, it gets flipped to yellow, then orange, then red. Each color has a different punishment, and at the beginning of the week, you start back at green. I got a prize at the end of the year for never having had my card flipped from green.

In high school, I worked my ass of to earn my A's while half my classmates stole or copied answers. It made me angry, and it was unfair. The pressure to do well was so enormous, it would have been so easy to accept an answer sheet or two, ease the burden a bit. I still refused to be a rule breaker, though. I was going to work hard, earn my diploma and go to a good college, like my parents wanted me to. Then I would graduate with honors and get a good job at a good company, move up the ranks. I would marry a good girl and raise a family. It was such a happy, pretty picture that lingered in my head my whole life.

Things went as planned; I got into Brown. I was rooming with a quiet, nerdy, nice boy who was headed for med school, which meant I probably wouldn't have to put up with obnoxious music, girlfriends or parties. Although, his camera fetish was strange. Despite this, we became good friends.

One day, Mark comes slamming into our dorm room, throwing his bag on the bed as violently as he could while still protecting his camera. "I'm so sick of this- this crap! Everything here is so goddamn snotty and everyone is so goddamn pretentious! I can't take this any frigging longer, I swear. Screw Brown, screw med school, and screw my parents! I'm getting the hell out of here." All I could do was stare at him as he continued to rant about living his dream of being a filmmaker, of moving to New York and leaving this behind. I glanced down at the essay I was writing, then at the clock. It was going to be a long night.

Two days later he had un-enrolled himself and was packing up his belongings in favor of New York. He was going to live with a friend of his from high school, some musician. It was ironic, really. I thought that I had finally found another rule-follower in Mark. Honestly, the way he talked about living his dream and the Bohemian life, I was almost tempted to join him. And eventually, I would. First, though, I would finish college.

Even when I did end up living with them – Mark, Roger, Collins, Maureen and April (a very crowded loft, at times), I still tried my best to follow the line my life was supposed to follow. I held a job, though not at a big corporation, and I kept my nose – and veins – clean. Okay, so there may have been a hit or two of pot, but that was only after mass alcohol consumption, so it hardly counts. Then one day, having just gotten a job as a secretary's secretary, I met Allison, and suddenly, my life was back on track. I was moving up in the company and in my living quarters, and I was falling in love with a good girl.

And I married her, and I bought a house, and I settled down. I tried to keep in touch, but it was hard. I had a demanding job and a wife to care for, to keep happy. It's not like they tried very hard either, in my defense. Calling her 'Muffy' all the time and stealing my suit jackets and what not, it was nearly impossible to stay close to them.

So yes, they were my friends, and yes, I loved them all dearly, no matter how many illegalities they may have had their hands in. But when Mr. Grey told me to collect the rent, whatever it takes, what was I supposed to do? He owned the building, and he was my wife's father. I couldn't well say no.

I'm not a prick. I'm not a bastard. I'm not cruel or coldhearted. I'm just not a rule-breaker.


End file.
